


Blindsided

by notcoolenoughtobehere



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Minor minor Cinder/Kai, Thorne has the emotional intelligence of an uncooked black bean, also Cinder being spicy, but he’s doing his best, cress being cress, most of the Rampion crew is just background for this, thorne being in love with Cress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcoolenoughtobehere/pseuds/notcoolenoughtobehere
Summary: Thorne forgets what Cress looks like.-A reimagination of that scene in Winter where Thorne sees Cress for the first time.
Relationships: Crescent Moon "Cress" Darnel/Carswell Thorne
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	Blindsided

Thorne forgets what Cress looks like. 

He knows some things for sure. She is blonde. She is tiny. Her hand cannot fit all the way around his forearm. 

He knows some things have changed, but he's not sure how much. Her hair would be shorter by now - and with all of their time in the desert, she must not be as pale as she was. Maybe she even has freckles. 

He finds himself trying to see her. 

It's stupid, really. Even as the two week mandatory period given to him by Dr. Erland comes and goes, with not even a sign of his sight returning, he finds himself looking intently in the direction of Cress's voice, attempting to see her. 

She was pretty, he thinks, when he first saw her. With all of that hair. But he didn't think her beauty was really that remarkable, no more attractive than Cinder or Scarlet, and probably far less so than the escort body he picked out for Iko. 

So why is he so attracted to her? 

It's a damn nuisance, really. 

Thorne is a very good judge of beauty. He knows it when he sees it. He definitely has a type, and that type is usually gorgeous. 

With Cress, he knows it when he knows it. When she sings Italian opera under her breath. When she leads him, her hand small but firm on his arm. When she walks in and he can feel the air shifting around her, like the room was waiting for her.

It’s different than what he’s used to. He just can’t quite put his finger on it. 

But when he realizes he can see - when the shadows on the wall blink, blink into a lamp, his first thought is _hell yeah_ and his second thought is _Cress_. 

He’s on the way to the cargo bay before he thinks very hard about it. That’s where Cress is. 

Thorne hears Kai’s voice before he even crosses the threshold. 

“He’d better plan on giving all this stuff back,” Kai is saying. 

Thorne leans against the doorframe. Kai is just tucking one of the (pricey) Venezuelan Dream Dolls back into a crate. There they are - Cinder, right beside Kai, Wolf, and - 

Thorne’s lungs tighten. 

She is blonde and tiny and her skin is barely tanned and freckles. Her hair just brushes her shoulders, parted on one side and messy. She’s wearing a dress - so silly and ridiculous that it’s charming - and holding a jar of asparagus. 

Is she pretty? Beautiful, even? 

He isn’t sure. She’s - Cress. He can’t assign one of those words to her because she’s her. She’s Cress, and that’s more than pretty or beautiful or those other words he’s used to many times before.

Aces, he sounds like a bad net drama. 

“Sure I’ll give it back, Your Majesticness,” he finally says, still unable to pull his eyes away from Cress, “For a proper finder’s fee.” 

Cress looks up from the pile of cans she is accumulating. Her eyes snap to Thorne’s, bright blue and startled. 

She’s . . . blushing. 

Thorne realizes that he’s still looking at her. 

“The short hair,” he says, like an explanation. “It works.” 

Cress’s hand reaches up to the edges of her hair like habit, still looking like a deer in the hoverlights. 

“Oh!” Someone gasps. He looks over to another figure he hasn’t even noticed - a gorgeous, tall, dark-skinned set of curves with bright blue hair. “Captain!” she exclaims, “You can see!”

The stranger crashes into him in a hug that has more than a juman amount of strength to it.

“Iko?” Thorne gapes. She pulls away, showing off her escort body. “Aces, I really know how to pick them, don’t I?”

“Sight unseen,” Iko says, obviously satisfied with his praise. 

Cinder pipes up from the other side of the loading bay. 

“Excellent,” she says, “I was beginning to worry we wouldn’t have a pilot for when it’s time to take Kai back to Earth. Now I just have to worry about not having a competent one.”

Thorne rolls his eyes. He leans up against the crate that Cress is sitting beside.

“Oh, Cinder, I’ve missed seeing your face when you make sarcastic comments in an attempt to hide your true feelings about me.”

“Please.” Cinder rolls her eyes at him and returns to the stack of guns up against the wall.

“See that eye roll?” Thorne continues, high on the sheer ability to see his ship again, “It translates to ‘How am I possibly keeping my hands off you, Captain?’”

“Yeah, keeping them from strangling you.”

Kai grins. “How come no one told me I had such steep competition?”

Cinder glares. “Don’t encourage him.”

Thorne smiles at them, but he’s already glancing back at Cress. 

She’s not looking at him any more: in fact, she seems to be pointedly looking away from him, blushing but furious, gathering up three huge stacks of cans in her tiny arms and spinning towards the other exit. Her sudden movements send a can of peaches toppling to the ground. 

Without really thinking about it, Thorne catches it mid-air. 

Cress looks between him and the peaches, almost offended, like she can’t believe he would have the audacity to touch the can. 

Still, he grins at the peaches. “Lightning-fast reflexes. Still got them.” He takes some other cans from her arms, trying to lesson the ridiculously overenthusiastic load. “Want help?”

He expects Cress to swoon a little bit at his chivalry, and then they would walk to the kitchen galley together and he could see a bit more of this blush for himself. Does she always blush this much when he’s around? He’s missed out on so much. 

But instead, Cress fixates on the cans. When she speaks, her words run together so quickly that they’re hard to understand. 

“NothankyouI’vegotit.” 

Cress does blush, again, but it doesn’t feel right. Not like he’d imagined. He remembers what she had said in the desert - 

_I think I’m in love with you._

As Thorne looks at her, jaw set, eyes very much avoiding his, he realizes that a part of him really was thinking that that was more than just delira and fever. His stomach sinks. 

“All right,” he says, nestling the cans back into her arms. “If you insist.”

He swallows. Takes in her face again. Wants to keep looking at her. Lowers his head to kill the thought. He leans back on the balls of his feet, pushing a hand through his hair as his insides turn around. He feels like he might be sick. And something freaks in his chest like a spasm and for a second he can’t breathe because he realizes - 

He’s in love with her. 

Ohhhhhh no. 

Cress rushes away from him with her arms full of canned goods, head down, face burning, angry. 

Thorne stands in the bay, feeling more like an idiot than usual. He rubs his neck, suddenly unable to look at Cinder or Iko, or any of the Rampion crew. 

“Well, nice seeing you,” he says, in a solid mimic of his usual tone. Then he walks into the hallway just in time to see Cress’s skirt disappear around the corner. 

_Not Cress,_ he silently begs himself. _Not Cress. Don’t be in love with Cress, of all people._

“Actually Thorne, could you get back in here?” Cinder says from behind him. “We’ve gotta talk strategy.” 

Thorne shakes his shoulders, like it will get rid of the thought. In love with Cress. He can’t be. Besides, he can’t be sure. He only thinks he’s in love. And that might only be because he needs to keep her safe. He owes her, for being his eyes in the desert. 

That’s all. Just debt. 

And that’s for the best, really. 

Thorne closes his eyes, pretending that he doesn’t still see her face, burning and ambivalent, if not downright uncomfortable. It’s clear that Cress’s feelings changed, within the past few weeks. 

How could he have been so blind?

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t MEAN to write so many Cresswell fics it just HAPPENS


End file.
